Ever have date anxiety? That feeling of nervousness that rushes over you, making your brain convince you that you don’t really need to interact with the outside world. That delivery Taco Bell and YouTube Vloggers are enough of a friend base to sustain you in this world.
This week had my brain playing this game of sabotage. Like picking shredded cheese out of my chest on the couch is a viable social strategy. I still managed to pilot my car to the top of parking garage adjacent to Racines Restaurant to meet a solid massive of man. Like solid thickness. Which is weird for me, and also completely refreshing. For the last thousand years I’ve been the big spoon, I think it’s time to little spoon for a while.
May I take this opportunity to advocate for Denver’s centrally located "date" restaurant, Racines? It really is the best "first date" eating establishment. It’s calm, it’s low pressure, and it has low walls around the patio to leap over in case the date is going badly. A Wendy’s is right next door, so after your great escape you can walk over and drown your sorrows in a Frosty as the date collects his car from valet. Then you can drive home without dripping Frosty on your seats. Trust me; I speak from experience. But! Not this week.
Halfway through the cobb salad, I began to be thankful for leaving my sofa and YouTube friends at home and for venturing into the cool summer breeze of Denver’s early evening. The conversation was easy, both agreeing that Betty Friedan is a product of her time, and still should be celebrated as sparking the second wave of feminism. Ya, know dudes on dates conversation. I began to have a rising internalized squee as all the anxiety washed from my brain due to a sense of happiness. Happiness based upon the connecting to someone with a similar world outlook, but not to similar…. We also made-out like teenagers in his car, steaming up the windows like I was in a Mustang listening to Radiohead.